'I should already count as half a breeder, right?' Silas thought to himself.
Although he had not yet passed the Breeder Association's official exam, simply being able to produce Pokéblocks meant one foot had already stepped across the threshold.
With enough practice and experience, producing them smoothly would become second nature in the future.
'But it took me thousands of failures just to succeed once. I wonder… how many different kinds can Teacher Mira make?'
His thoughts wandered. He had heard often about the difficulty of the breeder exams: countless written questions, followed by the final challenge was to produce a high-quality Pokéblock within a limited time.
Only by succeeding would one be recognized as a certified Primary Breeder.
Silas looked over at the piles of wasted berries and herbs in the corner. A wry smile crossed his lips.
"Breeders might be money-making machines, but the investment is enormous. No wonder Teacher Mira held such high status on the Great Shark back when the captain was alive cause she monopolized the Pokéblocks."
On the sea, nothing was more valuable than basic Water-type Pokéblocks. Nearly every pirate kept Water-types as their main battlers, and supplies were always short.
On land, Pokéblocks were almost exclusively trafficked through black markets, the prices sky-high. Mira's ability to produce them made her irreplaceable and earned her immense respect.
"But now… I should be catching up too."
As he expected, once word spread that Silas could create Pokéblocks, more and more pirates came knocking on his door.
Their goals were obvious- every one of them wanted to buy.
So Silas trained harder. At first, he succeeded only once in several hundred attempts. Now, he could succeed once in a hundred tries, sometimes twice if luck was on his side.
Half a year slipped by quietly.
The Great Shark had returned to Hoenn's waters. Here, every pirate group had their own territory carved out, their own seas to control.
Along the way, they occasionally raided tourist vessels. Any rare Water-types they captured were sold on land for profit.
The crew had also been replenished twice. Though not many, their numbers slowly climbed back toward two hundred.
"Silas, not bad. Your craft is improving. The purity of this Pokéblock is almost catching up to mine."
Mira held a pure white Pokéblock delicately between her fingers.
Silas bowed respectfully. "Thank you for your careful teaching, Teacher. I was only lucky."
Though his status had risen sharply in the past half-year, Silas never forgot his place. Whether for reputation or safety, he continued to show Mira the utmost respect.
"You," Mira said with a faint smile, "still know how to talk."
The two continued to discuss his training. Silas presented every problem he had faced in practice, and Mira patiently answered in the tone of a true teacher.
Back on the deck, Silas watched his Pokémon. With the steady resources he provided especially the supply of Pokéblocks they had all grown significantly.
"Cor-phish!"
Corphish snapped its claws proudly. Its level had reached 24.
"Car-vanha!!"
Carvanha churned the water below, its sharp fins gleaming. It was already Level 22. Both were steadily approaching the threshold of evolution.
Even Spearow, now close to evolving itself, no longer needed to act as a scout.
"Not long now," Silas whispered. "All of you are getting stronger…"
He lifted his arm, letting Spearow perch gently.
"Spearow, you don't need to fly reconnaissance for now. You're on the verge of evolution now just focus on building your strength."
"Spea~row!" the little bird chirped, determination in its eyes.
Silas smiled faintly, then glanced at the commotion below deck. A group of young boys had just been herded aboard.
New recruits.
He narrowed his eyes. Their faces were pale, filled with fear and confusion.
"Is this the new batch? I hope they last longer than the last lot…" Silas muttered.
Turning to a nearby pirate, he asked casually.
The man stiffened upon recognizing him, his voice hurried and respectful: "Lord Silas, yes. Twenty-seven newcomers this time. I'm in charge of showing them the ropes. Here's the roster ,would you like to see it?"
Silas accepted the list, glancing through it. Most were street thugs or desperate commoners forced into piracy. Some were captured outright, their expressions filled with terror as they dared not even raise their heads.
But one name caught Silas's attention.
"Julian hart..."
He frowned, then looked back at the pirate. "What? This boy… he's a League trainer? How did you capture him?"
His tone carried open reproach. If the League discovered this, the consequences would be disastrous.
The pirate stammered nervously. "My lord, we didn't capture him. He was bought off the black market. We didn't know his identity at the time. Only after did we find out he was a League trainer."
He hesitated, then added quickly: "From what we learned, and from his own story… he came from a prominent family. But his clan lost in some factional struggle. Their fortune collapsed, and even he was sold as a slave onto the black market."
Silas's lips twitched faintly. The story was absurd, yet also painfully believable.
'No wonder the League can't eliminate the darkness festering in this world,' he thought grimly. 'They can't even clean up their own corruption. The more they try to crush it, the more it spreads.'
Down below, the group of new recruits stood in silence. Suddenly, a plump boy pushed his way forward, his face still swollen with arrogance despite his young age.
He was no older than eleven or twelve, yet he raised his chin and shouted loudly:
"Tell your captain to come here! I demand to buy my freedom! My family can pay handsomely!"
For a moment, the deck fell silent. Then several pirates burst out laughing.
One of the guards stormed forward and slammed his fist into the boy's gut.
"Bah! You think you're still some big-shot League trainer? On this ship, you're just a prisoner!"
The boy toppled to the ground, but he still tried to glare, clutching his stomach. "Let me go! I'll pay my family will..."
Another pirate kicked him across the floorboards. The rest joined in, fists and boots raining down on him.
The surrounding pirates and crew didn't even flinch. Some watched with amusement, others simply looked away.
Bullying newcomers was common. Bullying a captured League trainer? That was even more satisfying.
"Ahhh! Stop! Stop hitting me!"
The boy's earlier arrogance dissolved completely. He rolled on the floor like a beaten stray, clutching his head and crying. Tears streamed down his face as he sobbed.
"Please! Please let me go!"
But the other twenty-some newcomers around him remained silent.
No one dared to speak.
Some watched in horror, trembling, too afraid to intervene. Others lowered their heads, secretly relieved that it wasn't them being targeted.
The boy stared at their indifferent faces, his heart sinking. For the first time, he tasted the coldness of human nature.
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